Her Imperial Highness

Leila's Kingdom

Rescuing Jamie

Chapter 6: Leverage

André was at first only aware of pain as he fell to the ground. He clenched his eyes shut and clutched his leg to his chest as he heard sheets rustling and someone approaching him. “André?” James said, his deep voice trembling slightly.

“That was a warning,” Jack said, putting his pistol back in his belt. “Although I meant to aim a little higher…” he muttered under his breath.

André opened his eyes and glared at Jack, trying to ignore the severe pain shooting through his body. He opened his mouth to speak, but James tightened his grip on André’s arm, his eyes asking him to remain silent. André felt a bolt of arousal go straight to his groin as his eyes flickered quickly over James’ nude body. He was more gorgeous than André had ever imagined.

“Jamie,” Jack said warningly. James moistened his lips nervously before turning to look at Jack, who arched an eyebrow at him. James slowly stood and backed away from André. “Get out,” Jack told André.

“He needs medical care,” James said suddenly.

Jack turned to him, studying him silently for a moment before he surprised them both by saying, “All right. Take care of him.”

James blinked, his eyes reflecting his disbelief. “What?”

“Take care of him. Clean his wound. All that.”

André eyed Jack suspiciously as James cautiously approached him again.

* * *

“So, Jamie, how’s your patient?”

James avoided making eye contact with Jack as he pulled on his breeches. “He can hardly walk. The crew is beginning to wonder what happened to him.”

“And he told them…?”

“Battle wound flaring up.”

“Ah,” Jack said as he pulled on his clothing.

“What are you doing, Jack?” James asked suddenly, turning to face him and forcing himself to meet Jack’s gaze.

Jack blinked. “Putting on my breeches. I can stop,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

James sighed quietly in annoyance. “About André?”

“Is he a problem to you, now?”

“Jack,” James said sharply. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

James rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt over his head. “Why are you letting me help him?”

Jack considered for a moment. “Well, if you don’t want to…”

“Jack!” James glared at his captain, waiting for the real explanation.

Jack smiled slightly and nodded. James did not like the glint in his eyes. “Do you want to keep helping him?”

“He needs it.”

“Do you want to?” Jack repeated.

James swallowed hard. “Yes,” he admitted quietly.

Jack grinned and took his compass from his belt. “How much do you want to, Jamie?”

James eyed the compass warily. “What are you planning, Jack?”

“You want to help André, and for me to let him live…and for me not to hand him over to Davy Jones.” James’ eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. “So you want to save him. And to save him, I need to find the chest of Davy Jones, savvy?”

“But…”

“If this compass points to André,” Jack began as he placed the compass in James’ hand, “he dies.” James gaped at Jack in horror. “But if you lead me to the chest of Davy Jones, he lives and is not condemned to serve aboard the Flying Dutchman for a hundred years, savvy?” James shook his head slightly, his eyes turning back down to the compass in his hand. “You hold his fate in your hands.”

James shook his head again. “Jack, no.” He looked back up at Jack. “Please. Don’t…I can’t…”

“You’ll just have to be sure it doesn’t point to dear André. But no worries—it’s all right if it points to me,” Jack added with a smug grin. “What you want most is to rescue André and please me by finding the chest of Davy Jones.” Jack nodded to the door. “To the helm.”

James walked slowly to the helm as though he was going to the gallows. He gulped and could not help but lift his eyes to glance at André, who was helping swab the deck. Jack told him to open the compass, but James merely stared at the object in his shaking hands. “Jamie, love?” Jack prompted.

“Jack, you’re using him…”

“As leverage,” Jack finished. “Open the compass, love.”

James could not believe what Jack was requiring him to do. This was low and cruel, even for Jack. But I did kiss André…he probably just wants to…to make sure that I’m still his pet.

Damn.

His hand shook as he reached to open the compass. André was right. James was just a tool—just the captain’s pet.

Or was he? Jack had told him that he loved him. So was he more than a pet to him?

“Jamie,” Jack said quietly, placing one hand on his pistol and the other on James’ leg. “Go on, love.”

I want nothing more than to find the chest of Davy Jones. I can save André by finding the chest of Davy Jones. I must find the chest of Davy Jones. And James slowly opened the compass, holding his breath as he watched it spin. The chest of Davy Jones, I want to find the chest of Davy Jones… James raised his eyes slightly to look at André, who was now watching him with concern in his adorable chocolate brown eyes.

James slapped himself mentally and turned his eyes back to the compass.

His heart stopped and he snapped the compass shut as quickly as possible, but there was no way Jack could have missed where it had pointed.

“Bugger,” Jack said.

Eyes wide, James looked up and caught André’s gaze. André’s brow furrowed slightly, sensing James’ panic. James suddenly moved to stand between Jack and André, meeting Jack’s gaze fearfully. “Jack, don’t,” he said shakily, too frightened for André to figure out what else he could do.

Jack kept a hand on his pistol, but he did not draw it as he stared at James intently. “Damn,” he breathed. “I was certain it would work.”

“Certain—what?”

Jack sighed after a moment. “I’m not going to kill him. Yet,” he added.

“You’re not? You just…”

“I was using him as leverage, as I said. I thought it would work. If you prefer, I’ll kill him.”

James shook his head rapidly. “Jack, that was—you were—.” He set his jaw and turned away, forcing himself not to say anything that he would regret.

“Keep the compass, Jamie,” Jack said quietly. “Keep trying to find the chest.” Jack patted James’ behind as he made to leave James at the helm.

“Yes, Captain,” James spat. Jack froze for a moment before he left.

For a while, James fought with his curiosity, but he finally reopened the compass. He wanted to see where it pointed—perhaps it had only focused on André because he had made the mistake of looking at him, or thinking about him at the wrong time.

After all, James did not want André. Not like that at all. They were, or had been, close friends, and James admittedly loved him more than most. But André was not what he wanted most—he just wanted to get André back to safety.

Of course, what did James want most?

He watched the compass spin in his hand and waited almost impatiently for it to choose a direction.

And what of Jack? James was with Jack—it was probably the most solid vaguely romantic relationship he had ever been in. While not overly romantic, it was stable, and Jack had saved him from the hell his life was in Tortuga. He had given him freedom he had never experienced. And Jack loved him. Perhaps he had never said it before, but it his actions had long shown that he at least liked and desired him, which was more than anyone had ever felt for him before.